


The Blue and the Broken (indefinite hiatus)

by spacefond



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Everyone Is Gay, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Inter-House Unity, LMAO, Mental Health Issues, Mention of Eating Disorders, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ravenclaw Draco Malfoy, Ravenclaw Hermione Granger, Slow Burn, Slytherin Harry, Yes Really, draco has blue hair, harry is grown up, it drives harry crazy, or my shitty attempt at it ya know what, probably, who knows what hijinks will go down, why are there so many gays at hogwarts what do they put in the water
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2018-10-18 21:43:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10625715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacefond/pseuds/spacefond
Summary: With a new year at Hogwarts starting, everything is changing. Teenagers that go through war don't come out of it whole. Everyone around Harry is broken, and that's okay. Draco Malfoy has blue hair and everything about him is enchanting, so of course Harry is obsessed again.Parts based on this tumblr post: http://goldentruth813.tumblr.com/post/144350661209/dracyo-draco-malfoy-coming-to-eighth-year-with(Sorry about the hiatus, but I’m having awful writers block when it comes to this fic. I know where I want to go with it, but I just can’t seem to write it. Hopefully I can come back to it in the near future.)





	1. one

Hermione gave Harry no time to admire the scarlet Hogwarts Express once they had come through the barrier. She pulled him along quickly, not even trying to be gentle. He followed her, with his wrist in a death grip like no other he could do little else. Harry really doubted she knew her own strength. He couldn’t count the amount of times she’d accidentally hurt him, whether it was because she was telling him he was an idiot or because he just walked slower than she cared for. Although, in her defense, Harry had almost made them late for the train, and Merlin forbid anyone made Hermione Granger late.

Harry allowed himself to be pulled through the crowd, and as they wound their way around the packed station, they saw tearful goodbyes and bone crushing hugs between families. The pair finally reached a somewhat less crowded area of the Platform. Molly and Arthur were standing apart from everyone with Ginny. Molly had tears in her eyes but she was smiling at her daughter, proud as can be. Arthur spotted Harry and Hermione loitering close by, and waved them over. Reluctantly, not wanting to disturb the couple’s time with their daughter, Hermione pulled Harry over. As soon as Molly realised Harry and Hermione had joined them, she pulled them both into a tight hug.

“You two be good this year,” Molly whispered as she let them go. “Don’t go looking for trouble dears.”

“Mrs Weasley, trouble usually finds us.” Harry whispered back, remembering a similar conversation from years ago.

“Oh, you,” Molly smiled. She took a final look at her kids - because yes, to Molly they were all her children. “Off you three go. You don’t want to miss the train.”

***

The stars twinkled above the Great Hall, enchanting the first years of 1998, just as they had for Harry and Hermione seven years ago. They were still enchanting Harry, who thought he’d never see the charmed ceiling again. Surviving the Battle of Hogwarts had left Harry shaken. Glad to be alive, but lost in the world. It had taken five months to open himself up again. The Hogwarts letter appearing on the dining table of 12 Grimmauld Place was probably what had done it for him. He snapped out of his stupor, genuinely excited about something for the first time in what felt like a lifetime.

“Harry.” Hermione said his name quietly, tapping his arm gently.

He looked down from the starry ceiling, but not before he realised he’d been staring at Sirius. Harry gazed at the Gryffindor table and realised he’d missed the Sorting and McGonagall’s first headmistress speech. The feast was already filling the table.

“This is a new world we’re living in, this post war world. It will be full of new challenges, different to those we’ve faced before. Starting this year at Hogwarts, both professors and students need to focus on unity. Inter House cooperation will be rewarded, hatred will not be tolerated, under any circumstances. This is the first step the school can take towards acceptance. For too long the professors here have ignored the problems faced in our system. I hope every single one of you will help us work towards a new era of peace.” Hermione said in a rush, much like how she spoke when answering a teacher's question. Harry looked at her in confusion. “McGonagall’s speech.”

Harry understood she had rushed to repeat the speech so that Harry couldn’t feel guilty for missing it. He didn’t blame Hermione for thinking he would feel that way, he often had recently. His friends had found him, occasionally, drunk to the point of unconsciousness. When questioned about it he had told them much of the same things. Guilt. Nightmares. Grief. The effects of war were not good. Now that Harry was more aware of how far he’d gone in the past few months, he was trying much harder.

“It makes sense.” Harry said, thoughtful again.

“What does?” Hermione said as she piled food onto her plate.

“Her insistence on Inter House cooperation. I was thinking about it on the train, actually. So many things could have been different, maybe better in the long run if we hadn’t placed so much importance on the Houses.” Hermione was shocked when he expanded on his thoughts.

“That’s awfully insightful, Harry.” Hermione said, smiling at him. “A very diplomatic and grown up view. You and Ron are both so different now.”

“We’ve been through a war, ‘Mione. Besides, we aren’t that different.” Harry sighed. “We just aren’t complete idiots anymore. We finally listened to you.” He said, smiling fondly.

“Finally. It only took seven years.” Ginny laughed from the opposite side of the table. “Glad you aren’t a complete idiot anymore.” Harry grinned at her.

Harry and Ginny had easily refound their friendship after the breakup. It wasn’t hard on either of them, with Ginny happy for Harry’s newfound acceptance of himself, and relieved she didn’t have to hide the feelings she’d developed for Luna during the war. So relieved, that the day after the breakup she’d made Harry come with her to the rook shaped house to tell Luna how she felt.

Harry had watched as Luna spun Ginny around the kitchen, and they danced in a typical Luna fashion. Luna had pulled Harry into the impromptu dance until they started to smell the banana bread burning. Luna had rushed to take it out of the oven, and Harry had said his goodbyes as Ginny and Luna had slightly burnt banana bread and infusion of Gurdyroot for lunch. He was so happy for them.

McGonagall stood from her seat at the head table just as all the dishes were cleared from the tables. She stood quietly and waited for the Hall to settle down, which of course didn’t take long. McGonagall held a presence, whether just in a room full of students, or in the middle of a battle, which made her a little intimidating. Once everyone had settled down into a food induced sleepiness she spoke.

“Now. I’m sure everyone here is tired and eager to rest for classes tomorrow, and I hope you’ll all forgive me for this, but…I have a surprise.” No one spoke, as they waited for her to continue. Whether it was a shocked silence, or respect for McGonagall, Harry couldn’t tell. Probably both. “If all Eighth years could stand. A display of unity. A new Sorting will occur for every single one of you.”

Whispers arose from all around the Great Hall, as everyone tried to make sense of this revelation. The Eighth years stood in a shocked sort of daze. They walked back to the middle of the room, standing as they stood seven years ago. There were fewer of them now. Not everyone had wanted to return to school, some of them offered jobs without the need for their N.E.W.T.s. Everyone watched as Professor Flitwick once again carried out the stool and Sorting Hat, placing them in front of the students ready to be Re-Sorted. Harry’s mind was running a thousand miles an hour as McGonagall unrolled a scroll with their names once again. He guessed this made sense in an insane way. He thought this was the kind of scheme Dumbledore would have come up with if he had been less biased in way of the Houses.

Harry watched as his classmates put the Hat on their head, waiting for a new judgement. Most of them probably uneasy about having the Hat in their mind again. He wasn’t too bothered by the Hat. A lot of what he had been told all those years ago may had freaked him out then, but he had a better understanding of the world now. He thought he understood why the Hat wanted to put him in Slytherin. He knew it was likely where he was going now.

When McGonagall called “Hermione Granger”, he whispered to his best friend.

“Have fun in Ravenclaw.”

“Oh shush, Harry.” Hermione said and rushed up to the stool, as if excited to try the Hat on again.

Harry barely had time to catch his breath before the Hat exclaimed “RAVENCLAW!” to the room. Those who knew Hermione were nodding as though this was no surprise to them. Hermione valued knowledge more than anyone they’d ever known. After Hermione sat down at the Ravenclaw table, looking as though she had sat there her entire life, Harry paid little attention to the sorting. Of course, in true Harry Potter fashion, he failed as soon as he heard McGonagall call “Draco Malfoy.”

Harry felt Malfoy push past him. His mouth dropped open when he realised Malfoy’s hair was pale blue. He watched Malfoy walk towards the Sorting Hat, with less swagger than he had in first year, but that kind of gait wasn’t something you could stop. Malfoy had quite obviously been taught how to possess a room as if he were the most important person in it, which may have sometimes been the case. When he wasn’t immediately sorted back into Slytherin, the room played a lot more attention to him. Many people in the room knew that a Malfoy was always sorted into Slytherin. The time ran on, and the room waited collectively with bated breath. Just before Malfoy would have been declared a Hatstall, the room heard an announced “RAVENCLAW!”.

The muttering began again as Harry watched Malfoy walk towards the Ravenclaw table, where Hermione was seated. The blue hair suited him, Harry thought. There was more to him though. Draco Malfoy was no longer the gaunt and scared boy he’d seen at Malfoy Manor. Nor was he the pale and shivering boy that sat between two dementors Harry had spoken for at the trials. Malfoy looked healthy, almost happy. With everything that had happened in the past year, Harry was glad he no longer looked sick and unhealthy, but Harry also knew that appearances could be deceiving.

When Harry’s name was finally called, the bored chattering that had begun occurring ceased, just as it had when he was eleven years old. He felt small again, in a horrible sense of déjà vu. Placing the hat on his head, it no longer fell down past his eyes, meaning he couldn’t hide from the audience anymore. Harry closed his eyes, deciding not to focus on all the people staring at him.

“Hello again, Mr. Potter.” The Hat whispered. “Your mind is still great, although neglected. You need to learn. Oh, hello. There’s that thirst to prove yourself. Such ambition Mr. Potter, you want to do so much with your small life. I do believe you already know where you’re going today, I can say you’re a great canidate for all the houses, but we decided this years ago, when you hated me for this decision. Are we agreeing? Yes, better be… SLYTHERIN!”

When Harry opened his eyes, he saw so many looks of surprise. If it had been possible, people had gotten more quiet. Everyone shocked into a complete silence that the Golden Boy had been sorted into Slytherin. Harry walked to the far side of the Hall, where those flashing green politely clapped for him. Obviously loyal to their own, and smaller now than ever before, they didn’t want to show division within their own house. That’s if any of them hated him enough to be reluctant to clap. Most of them were children.

Once Harry sat down, McGonagall called the next name.

Pansy Parkinson turned around to Harry and grabbed his hand in an aggressive handshake.

“Sorry I tried to turn you over to old snakeface. Welcome to Slytherin.” Pansy spoke blunt and proud.

***

The Eighth years gathered in their shared common room. Most of them stood around awkwardly, no one sure of what they should be saying in a situation like this. Harry stood off to the side next to Hermione, Neville hovering near them, and he was holding a new Mimbulus Mimbletonia, which Harry did not want to be near at any time. Seamus coughed, obviously uncomfortable in the tense silence.

Draco Malfoy was full of surprises today, as he broke the silence by extending his hand to Harry.

“Sorry for being a right piece of shit.”

“Taking the first step Malfoy, what a Gryffindor thing to do.” Harry laughed, and shook Malfoy’s hand. The handshake was powerful, but not as aggressive as Pansy’s had been.

“Don’t insult me, Potter.” Malfoy said, without missing a beat. The smile on his face told Harry he didn’t need to defend anyone’s honor.

Draco Malfoy’s display had apparently been the right idea.

“Well!” Seamus shouted “If those two can move past their shite, the rest of us can.” There was a bit of nervous laughter from those who didn’t know Seamus well, but everyone else slapped him on the back or spoke their agreement.

Soon the new common room was filled with quiet conversation, with everyone breaking into groups. Though they were mostly separated by the old houses, Blaise Zabini had wandered over to Neville, gesturing enthusiastically at the Mimbulus Mimbletonia. Neville looked hesitant, but soon joined in the conversation. Zabini likely wouldn’t emerge from that conversation for a couple hours, but he didn’t look too peeved at the idea of plants.


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's go, chapter two. all aboard the... ship?  
> all aboard the slow burn train, y'all (why)  
> i'm gonna have a fun time dragging out the fic like this
> 
> idk i'll upload weekly. ish.
> 
> have fun

_The heat was rising. Harry could feel it on his skin. Flames were licking up, trying to reach him as he flew through them. He faintly heard Ron say something about killing him. As the flames got closer to him, Harry started to sweat. His heart was racing. He could feel the beat against his chest, so heavy it was more of a thump. He could no longer hear Ron flying alongside him._

_Harry began to lose his grip, and he was slipping off the broom._

When Harry woke up, he was tangled in his bedding and sweating. He curled up in a fetal position, trying to will the heat of the flames away. Trying to remember he wasn’t alone. If he just opened the curtains on his bed, he’d be back in a common room, surrounded by his classmates. Ron wasn’t here, but that was okay. Ron is safe.

Breathing deeply, Harry squinted and got out of bed as he put his glasses on. A glance around the dormitory told him it was too early for most people to be awake. Walking down to the eighth year dormitory, he had a chance to explore the room properly. Alone in the early hours of the morning, Harry almost felt like a little kid again, just starting at Hogwarts and wondering around the castle to learn it’s secrets. All he needed was his Invisibility Cloak and the Map. But not right now. It was too close to dawn to start exploring now, he’d wait until tonight.

The common room was circular and filled with a lot of elegant, yet comfortable chairs. There were no house colours in here, most of it in greys and, surprisingly, purple. There was an area around the fireplace with a hearth rug and armchairs, which reminded Harry of Gryffindor. He supposed there would be little touches of the other houses to comfort the students. The ceiling was covered in stars, like Ravenclaw, and the furniture looked like it could rival Slytherin in elegance. The fire was still burning, giving the room a comfortable warmth. There were a few cats curled up on the hearth-rug, soaking up as much of the heat as they could. Crookshanks was the biggest and brightest of them, of course. Harry sat in one of the armchairs by the fire and watched the fire. This fire was peaceful, and it seemed to lull him into a feeling of safety. It felt good to be back at Hogwarts. Crookshanks jumped on Harry’s lap and curled himself up on his lap, a familiar and comforting weight. Sleep quickly overcame him again, and he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

***

“Harry, Harry wake up,” Hermione said softly, shaking him.

Harry was bleary eyed as he woke up again, and felt as if his body was weighed down. He looked down and realised some of the other cats had migrated from the hearth-rug for his body warmth. He gently moved the cats from his lap until only Crookshanks was left, because he knew Crookshanks would put up a fight. As soon as Harry tried to pick up Hermione’s overgrown cat, he sunk his claws into Harry’s pyjamas. Harry cleared his throat and looked at Hermione while gesturing at her cat, a wordless plea. She conceded and effortlessly gathered Crookshanks into her arms.

“Why does he only let you do that?” Harry wondered aloud.

“I have no idea,” Hermione said, scratching the cat’s head. “You should go get ready, then we can go down for breakfast…” Hermione sat down in the closest armchair. “First tell me. Slytherin?” Harry sighed.

“Right...” Harry said hesitantly.

“I’m definitely not as confused as some other people,” Hermione admitted. “But the hat put me in the other house it considered in First year… Were you almost a Slytherin back then?”

“The Hat tried to persuade me. I just kept repeating ‘not Slytherin, not Slytherin’ until I was put in Gryffindor.”

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, still petting Crookshanks, who had made himself a comfortable new home on her lap.

“You talked the Hat into putting you in another house. That’s a pretty Slytherin move.” Hermione giggled.

“More like annoyed the Hat into putting me elsewhere.” Harry corrected.

“Oh, is there a difference?” Hermione laughed, imagining the Hat speak like a teenage babysitter giving in to a toddler’s commands. “Go get ready, Harry. We’ll go down to breakfast together. Once we’re there you can chat up your new best friend Pansy Parkinson.”

When Harry got back to the dormitory, most of his classmates were just waking up, still stumbling around, trying to get back into the school routine. Harry felt exactly how they looked. Seamus’ hair was standing on end, and he was bent half over his trunk muttering angrily about a missing sock. Harry caught the words ‘missing sock’ and ‘in all that is holy’ with as many expletives, you could fit in a sentence this early in the morning. Hopefully, he didn’t set his socks on fire. Most people were waking up, bleary eyed and annoyed. Of course, Zabini was awake and looking perfect, which definitely wasn’t fair, but he was glaring with contempt at Neville’s toad, which had apparently taken up residence on his bed, which made Harry feel a little better about his morning. At least he didn’t share sleeping arrangements with Trevor.

Knowing better than to keep Hermione waiting, Harry made it back downstairs as the last person was getting out of bed. The walk to breakfast was a quicker than it was from Gryffindor Tower, and by the time they were in the Great Hall, there were few professors and even fewer students. Hermione shrugged and pulled Harry down into a seat next to her at the Ravenclaw table, already piling up a plate of food for him. When he looked at her in confusion, she just gave him a meaningful look back, which Harry knew she didn’t think he ate enough breakfast.

‘Okay, Mrs Weasley.” Harry said jokingly.

“Not yet,” Hermione said, making Harry start choking on the toast he’d been chewing.

“What?!”

“Oh,” Hermione said, frowning, disappointed in herself. “It was meant to be a surprise for everyone. I want to propose to Ron when we graduate.”

“Very modern,” Harry said, smiling.

“Yes, I suppose it is. I’m hyphenating as well.”

“Good lord, how will Great Aunt Muriel survive?” Harry poked Hermione’s shoulder, “How could you not think of Muriel at a time like this? She’ll never let you wear her goblin made tiara now.”

“What a tragedy.” Hermione sighed.

“She’ll be so upset.”

“Poor Muriel.” Hermione laughed.

“Muriel?” Harry and Hermione turned around to see Malfoy sitting down. “Which Weasley is getting married? Is it you and Ginevra?” He asked Harry. Hermione, who had just taken a sip of pumpkin juice, looked like not being able to laugh was hurting her. Malfoy looked between the two, confused. Harry laughed and pointed at the Gryffindor table.

Ginny was sitting at the Gryffindor table, her mouth full of toast - she’d never had perfect table manners, and Luna had walked up to her and kissed her forehead. Ginny swallowed the toast and beamed at Luna. They sat close together, and Ginny played nervously with the interesting charms around Luna wore, unaware of the fond and content smile that lit up Luna’s eyes.

“Oh.” Malfoy’s voice was soft, surprised.

Hermione was still giggling. “ He’s less observant than you, Harry. Honestly. They were together at the Ravenclaw table during the feast. _Cuddling_ ”

“Oi. I’m observant.” Harry said, indignantly, at the same time Malfoy turned around offended.

“I’ll have you know, Granger, I was dealing with the shock that I was moved out of Slytherin, which is obviously the perfect house for me.”

“Malfoy, you were less subtle than Ron’s crush on Hermione in Fourth year,” Harry said.

“I was not!”

“A _tree_. You jumped out of _a tree_ to try to insult me that year.”

“I was an idiotic fourteen-year-old, is that your point?”

“No.” Harry snorted. “Ron was an idiotic fourteen-year-old, and he never _jumped out of a tree_.”

“I think the fact that you jumped out of a tree is the point Harry _might_ be trying to make.”

The conversation ran dry, the three of them having never engaged in a longer conversation. The silence might have been awkward if there hadn’t been food in front of them. The Great Hall was filling up now, the students that had woken up latest were making their way through the doors as the Heads of Houses were standing up to hand out timetables.

Harry was tapped on the shoulder, and he turned around to Pansy Parkinson looking bored.

“Potty the Golden Boy too good to join the Snakes?” She asked simply, an exaggerated frown on her face.

“She’s dangerous before coffee Potter… That’s your problem now.” Malfoy stage whispered to Harry’s back.

Harry stood up from the table and moved over to Slytherin with Parkinson. As they left the Ravenclaw table, she said: “Ravenclaws are all squares anyway.” Just loud enough for Malfoy to hear. Harry watched as Parkinson poured herself a large mug of coffee, the pot having appeared in front of her when she sat down.

Harry and Parkinson joined Hermione and Malfoy at the Ravenclaw table as breakfast cleared. Eventually, all the Eighth years had migrated to the Ravenclaw table to get their timetables. Once all the younger students had left the Hall, the Professors turned their attention to the group in front of them. It was a shock to most of them how happy the students were to mingle outside of their houses. The biggest shock was when Draco Malfoy threw his head back in laughter at something Harry Potter had said. A surprise to himself, even, as his hand clamped over his mouth and his eyes widened in surprise. But he was still laughing.

With a flick of McGonagall’s wand, parchment flew from the arms of the Heads of House to settle down in front of each student. Their individual timetables inked themselves on the parchment.

“Your timetables are the classes each of you should have done last year. For the fact that all of you are adults now, they allow more freedom to you than the other year levels. Of course, this freedom should be used to study to the best of your abilities, but do as you will.” McGonagall said. “All of your classes will start later today. This is your final year. Do your best, have fun. Good luck.”

McGonagall walked out, her eye’s twinkled like Dumbledore’s used to. The other Professors followed her, leaving the Eighth years sitting at the Ravenclaw table.

***

The new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher had struggled to get most of her students to settle down all day. The last period of the day was her time with the Eighth years. They were already seated when she entered the room, and it was a deafening silence. No one was talking. It was heartbreaking. During her time at Hogwarts, this had been one of the rowdiest classes. Now, she realised, these kids had been through the war. They’d fought for their freedom, for their right to live. They all looked sad like they knew that had the end of the war come about any other way, they’d have been just as hard to control as the other year levels were. At the front of the room, she sat on her desk, facing the class, watching them all.

“I know what you’ve all been through in the past year, and I want you all to be comfortable in this class. I don’t doubt that most of you have skills in this subject that are well beyond average, and I’d like to continue to nurture those skills.” She took a shaky breath.

“Professor…”

“Buckley.”

“Right. Professor Buckley. I know a lot of us have done, uh… extracurricular studies outside of class a few years ago and some of it involved advanced spells and charms… uh.” Hermione trailed off speaking to a teacher for the first time.

“Don’t worry Miss Granger, I know about the Defence groups run throughout Fifth year.” Professor Buckley smiled reassuringly, tucking her hair back behind her ears. “I think we’ll spend this lesson figuring out what I should be teaching this class. This is a very unusual situation.”

Professor Buckley slid off the desk and gestured for everyone to rise from their desks also. Once everyone was standing, Buckley swished her wand, and the tables arranged themselves against the walls.

“Now, suggest spells you’d like to learn or improve.” She said, and surprisingly, Pansy Parkinson’s hand was first in the air. “Yes, Miss…”

“Pansy Parkinson, Professor.”

“Yes, Miss Parkinson.”

“Uh, well. I’ve always wanted to learn the Patronus Charm…” She said hesitantly. “The Slytherins… We had a study group of sorts back in Fifth year, it wasn’t just Potter’s… None of us had ever cast the spell before, let alone mastered it, so we weren’t able to learn it.” The Professor hummed at this suggestion.  
“Usually I would say no. The Patronus is very advanced magic. I still can’t cast a corporeal one.”

Hesitantly, Harry raised his hand.

“Mr Potter?”

“I can help teach… Uh, about half the class could help. A few of us have mastered corporeal… If that’s okay with you, Professor.”

“We may as well have an enjoyable first lesson, come to the front Mr Potter.”

Harry took a spot at the front of the class. He didn’t feel as anxious at the concept of teaching as he had a few years ago. Everyone in the class had turned their attention on him, even those who he’d taught before were giving him their full attention.

“So, we know this is advanced magic, even with how simple the explanation seems. A Patronus is usually formed through the use of a happy memory, but that memory has to be the happiest one you have.” Harry said, glancing around the room, to make sure they understood. Harry raised his wand. “Expecto Patronum!”

Harry’s thoughts were on his parents, the same memory he’d used in Lupin’s office. The one he wasn’t sure was real. As he focused on Lily and James Potter, a stag materialised from the mist, and galloped around the room, in between his classmates. Everyone looked on in awe. The stag really was a beautiful thing, Harry thought. He let his mind stray from his parents, and the stag ran until it disappeared.

“The Patronus will only last for as long as you are focused. Let your mind wander, and the Patronus won’t stick around.

“That’s very impressive Mr Potter. If everyone could please split into two groups. Those who can cast a Patronus, and those who can’t.”

Professor Buckley started grouping the students together. Harry was the last to be paired, and naturally, it was with Malfoy. As the class began to practice the spell, Harry followed Malfoy a little further away from the rest of the group.

“I’ve uh… Obviously, I’ve heard the rumours that Death Eater’s can’t produce a Patronus. The whole devoured by maggots thing.”

“Death Eaters can cast a Patronus. The unworthy will be devoured by maggots.” Harry said. “And before you ask, the unworthy means someone actually evil like Voldemort.”

Malfoy nodded and cleared his throat. “Expecto Patronum.”  
A few tiny wisps of smoke were produced by the spell, fading quickly. Harry doubted Malfoy lacked the competency for at least a non-corporeal shield, so it had to be the memory.

“What memory are you using?” Harry asked him.

“The… First time I rode a broom.” Malfoy was hesitant in admitting as if Harry was going to laugh.

Harry did of course laugh, but not for the reason Malfoy might have thought. Harry felt the glare directed at him and calmed himself enough to be a competent teacher.

“That’s never going to be happy enough. Also… That’s the first memory I tried to use too.” Harry said, chuckling. “Okay, look. There’s more than one way around this. The memory doesn’t have to be real, or even a memory. The concept of something happy can get you through casting a Patronus.”

Malfoy clenched and unclenched his jaw, and performed the wand movement a few times to make sure he had it right.

“Got something happy?” Harry asked, and Malfoy nodded.

Malfoy was determined as he spoke the incantation, and a shield burst from the end of his wand. Malfoy was concentrating on the shield intensely, and it slowly got brighter. He was lucky he was so stubborn because it was allowing him to push at making the shield stronger, seeing how long it could last. Harry found he admired this resolve that Malfoy had. The shield began to lose smoke, and it didn’t last much longer. He’d lost his focus on whatever memory he’d chosen. Malfoy looked a little worn out, Harry knew that focusing that hard on keeping your Patronus alive could do that, especially the first time. Harry didn’t even have to tell Malfoy to take a break, he’d already sat down on the floor, though he likely wouldn’t stay there long.

The classroom was full of wispy smoke, as people began casting their first non-corporeal Patronus. Harry watched the class as Malfoy readied himself for another attempt. Harry spotted Hermione’s otter swimming through the air as she demonstrated the spell for Parkinson. Seamus was with Dean, trying to help Dean produce a corporeal Patronus, all that came out of his wand was a strong shield like he’d produced during D.A. meetings. Seamus’ fox burst from his wand, circling Dean, but in a way that it looked like it was playing. Harry turned his attention back to Malfoy, who was running his hands through his hair. Harry didn’t think he would get used to the blue. It was striking, even more so than the blond had been, and wouldn’t it be great if Harry started obsessing over Malfoy again. Hermione wouldn’t let it stand this time, especially since he’d spoken for Malfoy at his trial _and why in the world would you do that if there was any chance he could still be up to something._


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god i'm so sorry fro how late this is. i struggled with this chapter for whatever stupid writer's block reasons.
> 
> i promise there will be one this weekend still, which i'm making longer to make up for this one.
> 
> enjoy.

There were students filling Honeydukes, standing around and taste testing sweets. Harry and Hermione were standing just outside, watching Pansy in morbid fascination as she ate Cockroach Cluster with enthusiasm. They were waiting for Malfoy to buy his candy floss and leave the sweet shop. Harry and Pansy had found it amusing that Malfoy had chosen a sweet that matched his hair. Malfoy walked out of the store looking pleased, apparently, he’d bought more than they’d all thought, as he had a bag with the shop logo printed on. He pulled the blue candy floss apart and delicately placed pieces on his tongue, revelling in the sweetness melting in his mouth. Harry wasn’t at all watching Malfoy’s mouth.

The new foursome made their way down the main street of Hogsmeade to the Three Broomsticks. Harry and Malfoy walked behind the girls as they argued about Arithmancy homework - neither of them had any idea what they were talking about. The ‘truce’ they’d formed in front of their classmates at the beginning of the year seemed to be quickly evolving into an actual friendship. Being on good terms with Malfoy was something that wasn’t done lightly, as it seemed. Both boys expressed things very intensely. Now that they didn’t spend all their time insulting each other, they had begun to understand each other. Of course, this was the very beginning of a friendship, and they were both hesitant about saying the wrong thing, especially since they’d seen each other at their worst.

They’d been back at Hogwarts for barely a week, and Harry wasn’t always sure how to feel about the fast forming friendship with two former rivals. There wasn’t much he could do about his somewhat reluctant friendship with Pansy; despite the houses not meaning much to the Eighth years anymore, they still ate meals together, and Pansy was a force to be reckoned with. You didn’t just ignore her when she’d decided to be benevolent. And with Pansy came Malfoy, although, with all the time Pansy spent with Hermione, Harry and Malfoy were closer than ever. They enjoyed each other’s company.

When the group entered the Three Broomsticks, they were spotted by groups of their friends, and Blaise had called Malfoy over to the table he and Neville were sitting at. Malfoy went to chat with him. Harry was pulled into the conversation by Ginny and Luna, who were sitting at a table right near the door. Hermione left to find a table that would seat the four of them, and Pansy went to order drinks, after complaining that _Draco should do it, we had to wait for ages for him to finish at Honeydukes._

“Hello, Harry.’ Luna said in greeting before Ginny could steal his attention.

“How are you, Luna?”

“Good. I think the nargles have finally stopped stealing my shoes.” Luna beamed.

“Hey, Ginny,” Harry said. “Why’d you call me over?”

“Can’t I just want to say hello?”

“No.”

“Ah, you know me too well,” Ginny said. “Mum wrote me, and she wants you and Hermione to go to the Burrow next weekend.”

Harry, Hermione, Pansy, and Draco ended up sitting at a table not too far away from Ginny and Luna, as the previous patrons had left while Harry and Ginny were talking. Harry was sitting between Malfoy and Hermione, sipping his butterbeer. He’d stopped paying full attention when the topic of Potions had come up because Malfoy had brought up an old argument about an obscure branch of Alchemy he had no idea existed.

Harry was surreptitiously people-watching instead. He saw an old wizard and his son at a corner table talking in hushed tones, deeply upset, and a middle-aged witch stand up to embrace her partner. The Three Broomsticks was busy with the lunchtime rush, Madam Rosmerta darting between the tables with dishes floating above her so they wouldn’t get knocked out of her hands, delivering food to grateful patrons. His attention on the room around him, he noticed the exact moment when Ron walked in the door. The group wasn’t that far from the front door, and as soon as Ron spotted their table, their eyes made contact and they grinned.

“What’s got you so happy, Potter?” Malfoy asked as he hadn’t yet looked the way of the door.

“Hey, ‘Mione, turn around,” Harry said instead of replying to Malfoy.

Hermione was confused, but she turned around to Ron standing behind her chair, grinning fondly at the back of her head. Harry heard Hermione gasp a split second before she stood and hugged Ron tight. When Hermione let go of their embrace, Ron pushed her hair back from her face and gave her an affectionate kiss on the tip of her nose. It was almost sickeningly sweet.

“I’ll have to complain to Honeydukes,” Malfoy said. “This is sweeter than the candy floss I just bought.”

Pansy flicked Malfoy’s arm in faux annoyance.

“Malfoy. Parkinson.” Ron greeted curtly, as polite as possible, nodding his head at the two of them. He grinned again when he turned to Harry. “Hey, Harry. I’d hug you too, but it seems ‘Mione doesn’t want to let go.”

Hermione had her arm around Ron’s waist, her head resting on his arm. Harry moved his chair closer to Malfoy’s to make room for Ron to pull up a free seat in between him and Hermione.

The conversation came easy to the old trio, Harry and Hermione learning about the Auror training program, and Ron valiantly listening as Hermione ranted about classes, occasionally asking Harry for input. Malfoy and Pansy were hesitant to join the conversation now, but listened politely, giving short answers if they were brought into the conversation.

“Now, what would you five like to eat?” Madam Rosmerta asked as she made her way to their table. She glanced warily at Malfoy for a second but quickly glanced away to the rest of the group.

***

Malfoy rolled up the sleeves of his shirt when his food was placed in front of him, exposing his forearms. There on his left arm, the Dark Mark was clearly visible to the group. Surrounded by beautiful blooming flowers, the Dark Mark was laying on a bed of narcissi. The tattoo was a work of art. Ron glanced at the tattoo, hyper-aware of the Mark that marred Malfoy’s arm. Harry watched Ron, uncertain about what he would say. He was a little nervous that Ron would revert to his impulsiveness. The same knee-jerk reaction to Malfoy that Harry had once had. That he still sometimes had. The wild, rash decisions Harry made regarding Malfoy might never go away. The two brought that out in each other.

Ron cleared his throat as he twirled spaghetti onto his fork, and Hermione touched his arm lightly, bringing him into a quiet conversation. Harry turned to Malfoy, still entranced by the beauty he’d turned the Dark Mark into. Harry took a swig of the butterbeer in front of him.

“What types of flowers…” Harry began to ask and trailed off as Malfoy looked at him. He looked at his arm and back at Harry, slightly alarmed.

“Oh. Well, narcissi - daffodils for Mother, of course.” He said, hesitant and quiet.

“The tattoo is gorgeous,” Harry said. Malfoy smiled at him, a little red from embarrassment - perhaps from the personal question.

“Too bad the Mark is right in the middle of it.” Ron’s remark was flippant. Harry’s head snapped around at the rude comment. He questioned Ron with his stare.

Ron placed his fork down on his plate once he realised everyone on the table was looking in his direction. Even Hermione seemed disappointed.

“Yes, Weasley,” Malfoy said before anyone could question Ron. “It is a shame that the Dark Mark is on my arm. I can’t get rid of it as much as I wish I could.” His voice was cold and proud, much like his voice was before the war.

“I just don’t understand how they can pretend it never happened,” Ron said. Malfoy opened his mouth, but all that came out was a choked sound before he closed it again.

“We don’t pretend it never happened, Ronald.” Hermione hissed at him. “Of course we remember. Me especially. However, we can also forgive because Draco has changed.” Hermione’s voice was a challenge, and Ron’s face went red. Hermione looked at Harry for backup. Of course, she didn’t need to.

“Ron.” Harry started, pausing to figure out what to say next. “Of course he’s changed. Do you think I’d have spoken up at his trial, or even be speaking to him if he was still the same? You and Hermione were the ones that helped me get better. It’s why I was able to speak for him, and you both supported that.”

“Of course we did, Harry,” Hermione reassured him.

‘Right.” Ron said. He was still red, but the colour was fading. “Sorry, Malfoy.” Ron didn’t sound too apologetic, but Malfoy accepted it anyway. He didn’t need the trouble.

Pansy and Malfoy left not long after, leaving the trio behind.

***

Eventually, Ron and the others had to separate. Ron had work to do for George, which was top secret, apparently. Harry, Ginny, and Luna said their goodbyes to Ron, heading back to the castle. Hermione wanted to stay with Ron a little while longer.

Harry walked a little behind the girls at the beginning of the walk, leaving them to be together. It wasn’t long before Ginny noticed he was lagging behind, and pulled him by the collar until they were all walking in a line, their arms over each other’s shoulders, like the beginning of a can-can line dance. Harry was glad for his friendships with the two. They radiated happiness. They made their long walk back to the castle together, slower than if they’d been walking separately. Despite this, they stayed linked together.

Harry was happy. He was glad he’d made the decision to return to Hogwarts because, in spite of the bad things that had happened, he had so many good memories. The rain started to fall lightly once they got back to the castle. McGonagall was inside as they made their way up into the Entrance Hall, and she smiled at them, as they laughed and wandered inside.

“Hello, Professor McGonagall.” Harry greeted her with a wide smile. Her face was kind in turn, her eyes bright.

“Good evening Mr Potter.” She turned to address the rest of the group. “Miss Weasley, Miss Lovegood.”

“Good evening, Professor,” Ginny said. “Sorry, but we have… things to do.”

“Very well,” McGonagall said, waving them off. “However, I do want to speak to you, Harry.”

As Ginny passed Harry on her way up the stairs, she ruffled his hair, messing it up even more than it was before. She whispered in his ear, mature as she was, _oh dear, someone’s in trouble._

“It’s nothing like that. Miss Weasley.”  
“Aw, Professor, you’re ruining my fun.” Ginny grinned and winked at Harry before running up the rest of the stairs, Luna trailing after, hand in hand.


	4. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a chapter, as promised

“Walk with me,” McGonagall said softly, leading Harry away from the stairs, as she conjured an umbrella so they could walk outside. Harry nodded and walked alongside the Professor as she opened the umbrella against the rain. “I suppose you and Mr Malfoy might have had a role to play in uniting the Eighth years.”

 

“Why do you say that?” Harry asked innocently.

 

“You don’t think, Mr Potter, that your sudden friendship has gone unnoticed?” McGonagall sounded amused.

 

“No, Professor. It’s more that we all have our own thoughts. It was their decision to mingle. Maybe you have more to do with it than me, considering the Re-Sorting.”

 

“You’re cheeky Mr Potter. Just like Lily.” That made Harry stop in his tracks. He’d never been compared to his mother over his father unless it was about his eyes. Harry greatly appreciated McGonagall’s comment, and he smiled as he wiped his eyes, just in case.

 

“Sorry, it’s just that usually I’m told I’m just like my dad,” Harry admitted. “I’m not used to people mentioning mum all that often.”

 

“Your father was a brazen prankster, and while that was his charm, Lily was much more cheeky than James. You’re very much similar to them both, Harry.”

 

It wouldn’t be long until they reached the lake, but McGonagall gave Harry a little while to let what she’d said sink in.

 

“Whether it was you and Mr Malfoy, or not, I’d like to thank you for showing support for the inter-house cooperation. I must also express my surprise that you’re now a Slytherin.” Harry chuckled at her words.

 

“Most everyone is surprised. Only Hermione knows that I was almost a Slytherin in First year. And you too now.” Harry said. “I’m still not sure about the placement, even now.”

 

“Well,” McGonagall said. “I’m sure you’re making your house proud. You’ll figure out why you’re a Slytherin soon enough. That’s not all I wanted to talk to you about, I must admit.”

 

Harry wasn’t surprised at the admission. He’d learnt not to assume when it came to McGonagall throughout the years, especially Fifth year. Those are still some of the best biscuits he’s tasted. He looked out across the lake, watching the Giant Squid’s tentacles rise above the water occasionally. Harry supposed McGonagall had charmed a Warming Spell as she’d opened the umbrella because as the wind blew at them, it was keeping him warm.

 

“Professor Buckley has been conferring with me about her classes. It is her first year of teaching, I’ve heard about the help you’ve been offering. I think it’s a great thing.”

 

“Thank you, Professor, I’m helping where I know I can.”

 

“I think it would be a great idea for you to consider taking up a student mentorship next semester,” McGonagall said. “Professor Buckley agrees.”

 

“A student mentorship, Professor?”

 

“You’ll learn about teaching under Professor Buckley. Help out in classes for some of the younger years, learn skills needed to teach. It would be beneficial.”

 

“Is there any reason you’ve mentioned this to me?”   
  


“I know you’ve stopped studying Potions. You no longer have the ambition to be an Auror, with or without your N.E.W.T qualifications.”

 

“I don’t want to continue to fight. I did my time during the war, and I don’t own them anything.” Harry said, rehearsing the mantra he’d begun to repeat to himself whenever he was feeling particularly down on himself When he started staring at the letter from Kingsley about positions in the Auror department.

 

“Another good reason to consider teaching.” McGonagall smiled at him, and they turned to walk back to the castle.

 

Once inside, McGonagall turned to Harry as they went their separate ways. “Think about it, Harry.”

 

As Harry continued up the stairs to the Eighth year common room, he thought about what McGonagall had offered him. A chance to pursue something that wasn’t expected and planned out for him. Something new, a fresh start.  _ Consider teaching.  _ He had the passion for going after the offer, the D.A. had shown him that he wouldn’t hate teaching. Harry ran his hands through his hair, the mess of curls was more knotted than usual and he had to be more forceful brushing through it. Maybe teaching  _ was  _ a great idea.

 

It would give him the chance to show people he was more than what they expected of him.  _ Auror. Continuing the fight. Wife - school sweetheart. 2.5 kids.  _ It wasn’t him anymore. He would prove to the Wizarding World that he didn’t have to do what they expected of him. 

 

And perhaps he could see a little bit of the Slytherin side of himself.

 

***

 

“Did you have a nice date with our lovely Headmistress?” Malfoy asked, as soon as Harry sat down in the armchair beside him. It snapped him out of whatever thought process he’d been on.

 

“Hm?” He looked up at Malfoy. “She wanted to thank our contribution to inter-house cooperation.”

 

“As if they don’t have their own brains.” Malfoy scoffed.

 

“That’s what I said.”

 

“Don’t hold me accountable for whatever those idiots do,” Malfoy said, amending his original statement. Harry laughed because he had a point. Seamus had set an armchair on fire already.

 

Malfoy looked still looked startled at Harry’s laughter, but less so than he had on the first day back. Harry looked at Malfoy, who had gone back to reading. Really looked at him. He was looking healthy again. Happy more often than not, too, especially when in a group. He even looked happy to have a debate. Which he did frequently. Malfoy’s pointiness had softened considerably over the years, he looked almost soft now. Harry wasn’t sure if that was true or perception, now that there was rarely a trademark Draco Malfoy scowl or sneer directed at him now. His hair was messy too. Nothing like Harry’s, but in a way that could be described as artful.  _ Of course, his hair could be described as artful, that was just completely Malfoy. _

 

“Stop looking at me, Potter,” Malfoy said, not even glancing up from his book. “I know I’m gorgeous, but I’m trying to read.”

 

“What are you reading then?” Harry asked, just to be annoying. Malfoy looked up at him rolling his eyes in annoyance but smirking all the same.

 

“Do you do this to Granger?”

 

“Yes. I’m like the annoying younger brother she never had.” Harry answered as if it were the most obvious answer, which, it kind of was.

 

“Sorry about Ron,” Harry said, looking apologetic. Malfoy hummed noncommittally, his mouth turned into a frown.

 

“Don’t be. He wasn’t wrong.”

 

“That doesn’t mean he should have said it. He was out of turn.” Malfoy looked at Harry in surprise. “Just because he’s my best mate doesn’t mean I always take his side. He can be an idiot.”

 

Malfoy looked pleased with that and opened his mouth to make a sarcastic reply. Before he could speak, Hermione came back from Hogsmeade. She sat in the only armchair left near Harry and Malfoy.

 

“Hey, Draco. About Ron…”

 

“Don’t worry, Granger. Potter already apologised and defended my honour.” Malfoy said smirking.

 

“Huh. Okay then. Ron does feel bad, though.” 

 

“Good to know.”

 

“I’ll be seeing you, I have work to do for Arithmancy.”

 

“You mean you have to prove Pansy wrong,” Harry said, and Hermione’s face gave it away. He’d caught her out. Hermione rolled her eyes at him and left. “Was letting them be friends a good idea?”

 

“No worse than letting us be friends.” Malfoy countered. “They’re competitive but probably a lot less likely to kill each other.”

 

“I wouldn’t put it past Hermione,” Harry said, smiling.

 

***

 

Harry pulled on his invisibility cloak, making sure his feet were covered. It was barely past midnight, but the Eighth year boys were mostly asleep already. Harry glanced around to make sure no one was looking out of their bed hangings, the rush of exploring in the middle of the night coming back to him. He slipped through the door and quietly shut it behind him.

 

In the common room, Harry couldn’t see anyone and was glad that no one would spot anything weird. Making his way quickly through the common room to the tapestry covered entrance way, the invisibility cloak swished around his legs.

 

“Hello, Potter.” 

 

Harry turned around, the invisibility cloak was still fully covering him. Malfoy shouldn’t have known he was there. He looked up at Malfoy after he was sure his feet were covered. His eyes were slowly raking across the room, sitting in a high-backed chair that was facing away from the dorms. Harry pulled the invisibility cloak off his head.

 

“How did you know?” Harry asked.

 

“I didn’t. You confirmed it.” Malfoy looked smug. “I was sure you had an invisibility cloak, and I heard the door close.”

 

Harry looked disappointed at this development, and Malfoy rolled his eyes at him.

 

“Your stealth is terrible.” Malfoy laughed. Harry hummed in agreement.

  
  


Harry sat on the edge of a chair near Malfoy. His stealth had never been that good. Especially around Malfoy, the number of times he’d almost been caught sneaking around in  Sixth year was unbelievable. Malfoy looked at him strangely, and Harry realised he was still just a floating head. He dropped the cloak and returned to full visibility again. They stared at each other, uncertain.

 

“Well,” Harry said. Malfoy looked at him, expectantly. “I’m going for a walk. See you.”

 

“Oh, of course,” Malfoy said looking back down at the paperback he was holding. “You know you don’t actually need the cloak, right?”

 

“I know. So, are you coming?”

 

“What?” Malfoy looked up at Harry, who was smirking at him.

 

“Are you coming?”

 

They looked at each other in silence, and Harry watched as Malfoy was contemplating the offer. He looked from his book to Harry, and back again. Finally, he closed his book, placing it on a table.

 

“Let’s go, then,” Malfoy said standing from the chair.

 

Harry smiled and picked up the cloak. He threw the cloak over them both, checking to see if it would cover them both. While adjusting the edges around their feet, Harry pulled Malfoy closer to him. They were barely covered by the cloak and the bottom of their legs would likely show when they walked, but they technically didn’t need then cloak, to begin with, so it wouldn’t matter. They were walking out of sync as they made their way to the entrance of the common room, but as they made their way away from the tapestry, they began to match their strides.

 

“Where are we going?” Malfoy whispered as they made their way out of the west wing of the castle.

 

“No idea.”

 

Harry heard Malfoy huff in annoyance and felt his breath on the back of his neck before his wrist had been taken in a tight grip. Malfoy was leading him along the corridor. Harry followed along behind him, and they quickened their pace. Harry had no idea where he was being led, which was definitely a surprise, as Harry usually had a vague idea where he was in the castle.

 

Malfoy shushed Harry as they spotted the Fat Friar floating past at the end of the corridor. The ghost was muttering to himself as he followed the path that would lead him to the Hufflepuff common room. When the Friar stopped muttering, both boys came to a halt. When the Friar turned around to face where they were standing, he saw no one. Confused, he continued back where he’d been going.

 

“Now where are we going?” Harry asked once the Friar was gone and they continued.

 

“Uh…” Malfoy said uncertainly.

 

“Do you even know?”

 

Malfoy didn’t say anything and they continued along in the darkness. Neither of them had lit their wands and there was no light in these corridors. Occasionally as they passed them, a portrait would snore or talk in their sleep, but for the most part, their journey was silent as well. As Harry still had no idea where they were, he followed Malfoy, hoping he knew. 

 

They weren’t walking quickly anymore, both of them looking around carefully, hoping to find something that looked familiar. Neither had admitted they were lost, but from the silence, they still knew.

 

Harry spotted a tapestry further ahead and pulled Malfoy along with him. The work depicted the founders of Hogwarts. Pushing the heavy fabric aside, he realised there was a passage behind it. As they stepped behind the tapestry, torches along the walls lit up and they found that the passage ended at a wall.

 

“That’s disappointing. A tapestry of the founders leads to nothing.” Malfoy said. “Although…”

 

“Why the hidden… hole… that lights up when someone steps inside?” Harry asked.

 

Malfoy hummed in agreement and pulled the cloak off himself. Harry took the cloak off and draped it over his arm. Malfoy had already let go of his wrist and walked up to the wall. Feeling the brick, running his hands over it, Malfoy was concentrating. Harry watched as Malfoy pushed random bricks, seeing if they would move. This turned to no avail, and he turned back to Harry, looking disappointed.

 

Harry sighed, turning around to face the back of the tapestry. Along the left wall, something small caught his eye. On one of the torch brackets, something small and gold glittered in the firelight. Harry walked up to the bracket. A small Hogwarts insignia was inlaid there. Harry reached up and pulled on the torch. When he heard Malfoy’s sigh of disappointment, he didn’t let go of the torch. Harry pushed the torch further towards the wall, and the flame went out. He heard the crunching of stone against stone and turned around to see the end wall separating.

 

Malfoy turned back to Harry, and they stared at each other in complete surprise, a few chuckles escaping them. Harry walked forward, and they hurried through the opening, only to find a door. A golden knocker rested in the middle of the door - no handle. Harry groaned, thinking he knew what this meant.

 

“If that knocker asks a bloody riddle…” Harry trailed off, looking at Malfoy, who was still confused.

 

“The, uh, Ravenclaw common room has a door like that. Their knocker asks a riddle… Like a password.”

 

Malfoy, who felt no similar aversion to riddles, reached out and knocked on the door. Almost instantly, the knock transformed into the head of a Sphinx. Harry rubbed at his face, cursing the universe for introducing more riddles and another Sphinx into his life. At least this Sphinx was fake and stuck to a door, not about to eat him.

 

“I am a ship that can be made to ride the greatest of waves…” The knocker spoke with a hoarse voice, as though it hadn’t spoken for a very long time. “I am not built by tools, but by hearts and minds...”

 

“I knew it,” Harry whispered to himself.

 

“What am I?” The knocker finished, going silent in anticipating for their answer.

 

“Friendship,” Harry said, remembering the riddle from primary school with ease.

 

“That is correct.” The knocker said it’s voice less strained than it had been. “Well done young man, I do hope you find what you’re looking for.”

 

The door swung open to reveal a large, well-lit room. There were chairs gathered around in the centre, all mismatched, and very old, but along the tall circular wall were two bookshelves that stretched around half of the room. Harry wandered into the centre of the room, gazing around in wonder. A painting sat between the two shelves. Four people sat inside the frame, the founders. This one, however, seemed Muggle. The figures in the painting didn’t speak or even move at all.

 

Harry sat down in the middle of the room, watching while Malfoy had a slightly more thorough exploration of the room. Occasionally, Malfoy would gasp or stare in awe at a book or a ceremonial dagger, or whatever was lining the walls in the room.

 

“Hey, Malfoy?” Harry asked, wiggling around in the chair, trying to feel comfortable in a seat that was probably centuries old, held together only by magic.

 

“Yes, Potter?”

 

“...If animals could talk, which would be the rudest?” Harry asked.

 

“Did you just panic and use a conversation starter?” Malfoy asked, laughing.

 

“Maybe,” Harry admitted. “Are you going to answer the question?”

 

“Potter you’re an idiot.”

“Huh… Ferrets would be the rudest animal… interesting.” Harry said sarcastically.

 

“You astound me with your sparkling wit.”

 

Harry grinned at Malfoy’s back. He was still pulling out books and examining them.

 

“Ferrets might be the rudest. Have you heard of a Jarvey?”

 

Harry laughed, and Malfoy slid the book he was holding back on the shelf and walked back to the middle of the room. He found the most comfortable looking chair near Harry and tried to get comfortable.

 

“What do you suppose this room is… or was?” Malfoy asked.

 

“The founder’s private library?” Harry suggested.

 

Malfoy shrugged, unsure.

  
They lapsed into silence, something they did often. When neither of them could think of light topics of conversation, and not wanting to bring up anything that would make the other lash out. As much as the two of them had changed, they’d always been catalysts of emotion for the other and were hesitant in dragging up the past for fear of the oncoming storm. Any conversation they had was filled with small talk, Malfoy phrasing his questions as conversation starters in order to mock Harry. Every time Harry would laugh and flick his wand to throw balls of parchment at Malfoy.


	5. five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone please actually fight me when i don't upload on time

Harry was late for Defence Against the Dark Arts. It wasn’t that he was disorganised or unable to be punctual, it was that he’d been stopped by Professor McGonagall, and when he told her he had class, she didn’t particularly find a problem with stopping him in the hall. She handed him a brochure;  _ THE MAGIC OF EDUCATION: Do you want to change the world? Consider trying your hand at teaching.  _ Harry stared blankly at the brochure as McGonagall told him she expected a visit from him after his classes to discuss his options. She was adamant that he come, not willing to take no for an answer. She would always care for each and every one of her students, and Harry was no different. If she had to fight the war again for him to do what he wanted, she wouldn’t hesitate in pulling out her wand.

 

When he finally did reach the DADA classroom, the door was open, and the class had already begun. Today was the last day they were working on conjuring a Patronus. Buckley had made an exception in the classes held over the past week, allowing them to refine and master the skill required to cast a Patronus. By now the whole class was able to cast a strong non-corporeal Patronus if they had so far failed to have their Patronus form a body. Those who were able to cast a corporeal Patronus would cast and recast their spell for the lesson, watching their animals swim, run, and gallop around the room.

 

Malfoy stood on his own, focusing on the vague shape of his Patronus. He’d progressed since the first lesson like everyone had, but he was still having trouble casting the corporeal form of the spell. In the light mist, he was willing into existence, parts of an animal were taking shape. Legs, pointed ears, nothing that was identifying the animal trying to take form.

 

When Harry walked in, his classmates didn’t pay much attention to him, too focused on the animals surrounding them. Professor Buckley looked at him from where she stood with Hermione and Pansy, casting a vague mist Patronus, and quirked an eyebrow in askance. Harry explained the situation to her quickly, and she nodded her head in acceptance, turning back to the two girls, and trying to cast a corporeal Patronus again. Pansy and Hermione taking turns in demonstrating the spell, Hermione’s otter swimming through the air around them and Pansy’s cobra slithered and twisted itself around the Professor.

 

“Good of you to turn up,” Malfoy said when his recent attempt burnt out and he had to sit down. He was very obviously magically drained.

 

Harry took a Honeydukes bar out of his bag - the same kind of chocolate Remus had given him so long ago and threw it at Malfoy.

 

“What the hell is this for?” Malfoy asked.

 

“To eat. Regain your strength or you’ll never get this right.”

 

Malfoy rolled his eyes at Harry for acting as if he didn’t know about magical exhaustion and the benefits of chocolate.

Malfoy’s Patronus was getting stronger,  He unwrapped the chocolate carefully, breaking small pieces off methodically until half of it was broken into little squares. Malfoy ate them slowly, still resting on the floor, and levitated the rest of the bar back over to Harry as if he couldn’t be bothered throwing it back.

 

Harry sat on the floor and ate the rest of the chocolate bar, waiting for Malfoy to have enough strength to try again. The class around them were still amazed at their Patronuses, showing each other, smiles on their faces, laughing when someone’s Patronus was acting playfully.

 

Dean and Seamus were the closest to them, and Harry looked up in curiosity when he heard Dean talking under his breath.

 

_ “Oh my god, oh my god,” _ Dean repeated the phrase a few times over and looked back at Seamus, who currently wasn’t paying attention.

 

Dean watched Seamus talk to Neville for a little while, before he looked at his wand, perturbed. He looked around again, and Harry was recognising the signs of uncertainty and nervousness in him. At that moment, Seamus turned back around to face Dean.

 

“Try again, mate,” Seamus said, gesturing vaguely.

 

Dean was hesitant and made a choked noise. He sighed and shrugged, casting the spell again, speaking softly but with determination. Out of Dean’s wand burst a bloodhound, which ran around the room in excitement, circling Seamus before it began to roll around playfully.

 

Hermione had made her way over to Harry, smirking slightly at the scene in front of him.

 

“Tod and Copper,” Hermione whispered.

 

“I know,” Harry answered, just as quietly.

 

Seamus was so excited for Dean, now that he’d mastered a corporeal Patronus. He was smiling as he conjured his own, and watched in amazement when his Patronus started chasing Dean’s. It didn’t take long for the two Patronuses to start playing, the animals performing the same tricks they had while alone, but now together.

 

“I didn’t know that they could do that,” Draco said quietly.

 

“Ron’s terrier chases Hermione’s otter,” Harry said back automatically.

 

Harry didn’t see Draco’s confusion because he was still watching Dean and Seamus as their Patronuses disappeared.

 

“Are you saying those two are a couple?”

 

“They’re not, but neither were Ron and I when we learnt how to cast a Patronus,” Hermione said. “...And not for lack of trying to get them together, either. Especially since the war.”

 

“C’mon Potter, I need to learn the spell,” Malfoy said, and pulled at Harry’s sleeve. Hermione looked at the two of them and seemed to have an idea.

 

“You haven’t mastered it, Draco?” Her question was innocent if a sore subject to Malfoy.

 

“Granger, we aren’t all as perfect as you.” He replied defensively.

 

“Oh no, I had trouble with this spell too.”

 

Draco seemed to consider this. “No, I haven’t.”

 

Hermione was thoughtful. “Well it’s not as if you lack the competence, and Harry isn’t a bad teacher…”

 

Harry watched Hermione explain some advanced concepts to Malfoy, probably things she’d researched in Fifth year when she was having trouble.

 

He shrugged and turned his attention to the rest of the class. Most of them were relaxing with their Patronuses, with nothing else planned for that day. A few other people were still struggling, but there were people trying to help them from the D.A. so Harry assumed they wouldn’t be struggling for much longer. Professor Buckley’s Patronus had a slightly more distinct form by now, but mostly it was still foggy. Harry left Hermione and Malfoy to talk about magical theory to help the Professor. It seemed she’d either excused Pansy, or Pansy had given up, as she wasn’t known for her patience. Harry observed his teacher for a few minutes, trying to detect the root of the problem. 

 

“Can I help, Professor?” Harry asked.

 

“Mr Potter, you don’t need to.”

 

“I’d be happy to help,” Harry assured her.

 

It felt strange to be instructing a teacher, but Harry had her move through the movements of the spell, slowly this time. This way he was able to imperfect wand movements that were so subtle you couldn’t notice otherwise. Helping her correct these movements, Harry held her arm and wrist and directed it in the right way before she tried again. 

 

When Professor Buckley tried to cast again, the corrected movements help the Patronus form a much more distinct shape. The four-legged animal only prowled for a short while before disappearing, but when Harry turned back to his teacher, a wide grin was plastered on her face. Her crows feet and laugh lines were much more pronounced when she was ecstatic, but she still looked dignified.

 

“Thank you, Mr Potter!”

 

“It’s my pleasure,” Harry said.

 

Harry turned around to go back to Malfoy and help out as much as he could, and in the space of a second, he made eye contact with Malfoy, and the mist from his Patronus formed a more distinct shape. Like Professor Buckley’s spell, the specifics of the animal weren’t visible. It was fox-like, with a large tail and big ears. Its movements were as graceful as Malfoy’s.

 

The class bell rang loud and clear, breaking Malfoy’s concentration. The elegant creature disappeared, and by the time Harry shook his head to come to his senses, Malfoy had already turned to the door and was leaving. Harry slung his bag back over his shoulder and Hermione was waiting for him by the door.

 

***

 

Hermione had sat him down at a table down in the kitchens, and the house elves had immediately descended upon them with pastries and at least three different drinks. The elves always gave away too much food, insisting that they eat it all. Kreacher stood by them, moving some things off the table that he knew the two of them wouldn’t eat, but he was so careful that the other elves didn’t seem to notice. Hermione picked at her food and was glancing at him. She was waiting for Harry to be the first one to talk.

 

“If you want to know something, just ask me,” Harry said. “Because I’m so oblivious and all, I have no idea what you want from me.” Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled.

 

“I just want to spend time with my best friend?”

 

“If you wanted to do that we’d be anywhere but here. You learnt too much from Molly, all your important talks are in a kitchen.”

 

Hermione was studying Harry carefully, and he was sure she was trying to figure out where all the new insights came from.

 

“Malfoy,” Hermione said simply.

 

“I thought it was  _ Draco  _ to you now,” Harry said, avoiding the unspoken question. Hermione cocked her head to the side. “What about him?”

 

“You two seem close.”

 

“No shit, Hermione,” Harry said. “You just noticed? And people say I’m the unobservant one.”

 

“Harry, you know what I mean. Don’t avoid it.”

 

“No, I don’t. What do you mean, Hermione?” Harry said, shifting uncomfortably on the stool he was perched on. “We’re friends.”

 

“Why?”

 

Hermione’s question sunk in and Harry was left thinking. Not for  _ a  _ reason, but for  _ the  _ reason. There were probably a million different reasons he could come up with, half of them being  _ because I want to be friends with him _ , but he didn’t know what to tell Hermione. Anything he said to her would be grotesquely see-though and she would know too much the minute he stopped talking. He was pretty sure he already heard the cogs turning and thoughts forming in Hermione’s brain.

 

“He’s changed. And he’s actually funny and interesting. We get along, we’re actually pretty similar…” Harry said.

 

Hermione hummed, and her thoughts and suspicions churned faster, harry watched the look in her eyes change in the seconds that passed. A look he’d seen before and knew he’d see a million times again.

 

_ She knows she knows, she knows.  _ Harry thought, the sentence running through his head over and over.

 

McGonagall’s Patronus couldn’t have come at a better time, and he would spend the next five minutes thanking her within his head for interrupting Hermione at a poignant moment.

  
_ Mr Potter.  _ McGonagall’s voice emitted from the cat.  _ I hope you haven’t already forgotten my request. _


	6. six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been super busy with school, so sorry that this chapter is late (AGAIN).  
> anyways, here it is, enjoy.  
> sorry this is kind of short, there was more but i wasn't sure where to cut it off. longer chapter coming next time.

Harry had escaped the kitchens as fast as he could have, and raced to the Headmistresses office as if his life depended on it, rather than just his dignity. The gargoyle leapt aside as he came closer, not even waiting for a password. Harry stepped onto the rotating stone steps, anxious for whatever was about to come. When he entered the office, Professor Buckley was sitting on top of the large desk, her legs crossed. It seemed a space had been cleared specifically for her to sit on, as the rest of the top was littered in parchments. He’d never thought Professor McGonagall was so messy. Dumbledore had been neater.

“Mr Potter, thank you for coming.” McGonagall looked up and caught his eye as he entered, and Professor Buckley was startled, sliding off the desk and sitting in one of the two chairs placed in front of McGonagall.

“Of course, Professor.” Harry was confused, his mind being pulled in so many different directions at once.

He was still back in the kitchens, thinking about leaving Hermione stranded. It was something he shouldn’t have done, but he panicked and had to get away from the conversation. He was also trying to take in everything that had happened in the ten seconds he’d been in the office. The mess, Professor Buckley sitting on the desk, Professor Buckley being startled. He wasn’t sure which factor was more important, which was nothing too unusual, but no less confusing. He sat down before he was asked to.

“Professor Buckley is of course here in a professional capacity. As both the current Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and the one who recommended you for this opportunity.”

“Why else would Professor Buckley be here?” Harry asked, getting more and more confused as time went on.

“Ah.” He heard from beside him.

“I just wanted to assure you that she was not merely making a personal visit, as you may have assumed was the case.”

“Okay…”

“Do you want a biscuit, Mr Potter?” Professor Buckley asked, holding an open tin out to him. Inside were Ginger Newt biscuits. Harry took one gratefully. He silently made the connection between these biscuits and the ones McGonagall had forced on him in Fifth Year.

Harry nibbled on the biscuit thoughtfully as McGonagall began talking about the process of becoming a Professor. It sounded especially convoluted to Harry, but he listened readily. Both genuinely interested and aware that McGonagall would notice and chew him out if he wasn’t listening properly. The Magical world did not have a solid plan for anything, Harry realised as McGonagall continued outlining the process, copying some things down on parchment, presumably to make it easier for Harry to understand. The system of further education was unorganised and overly complicated. Harry didn’t know all that much about Muggle tertiary studies, but it couldn’t be as confounding as this.

“I know it’s confusing, but we will help you with anything you don’t understand if you wish to go through with this.” McGonagall finished. “Miss Granger, I expect, will also be more than willing to help out. She has already filed her forms for simultaneous Magical and Muggle tertiary education.”

“Any questions?” Professor Buckley asked after giving Harry a few moments for everything to sink in.

“Why did you reccomend me for this?” Harry asked, still dazed.

“I believe you’ll do a great job, and I’m not intending to stay a Professor until I die.” She explained. “I’m almost sixty, nearing the Muggle age of retirement. I only started teaching here because Minerva asked me to. If you wish to take my place, I’ll spend the second half of the year teaching you what I can, you’ll spend a few years getting the qualifications, and I’ll retire. If not, I’ll spend a few more years here, until people realise the job is no longer cursed, and I’ll retire.” Buckley spoke very quickly and was no nonsense about it. You couldn’t argue. It was very reminiscent of McGonagall.

“If that’s all?” McGonagall asked, and Harry nodded. She flicked her wand, and a bunch of parchment rolled up together and moved closer so Harry could take it. “You may leave.”

“Wait a minute, Minerva. May I please speak to Harry alone?”

“Very well, Albus.”

Dumbledore’s eyes still sparkled, even in a painting, and the portrait watched McGonagall and Buckley leave the room, before turning to Harry.

“I’m very proud of you Harry.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“I believe you’ll do well. A teaching position is a very fine idea.” Harry stared at the portrait for awhile, not sure what to say.

“Are you sure you have what it takes, Potter?” Snape’s portrait asked, no longer pretending to be asleep. He was sneering at Harry, which was no different to how he’d been in his life, but there was a certain look of respect in his eyes. “It is a difficult and underappreciated profession. It’s nothing like being an Auror.”

“Thank you for the concern, sir, but I think I’ll do just fine. I want to do it, and I am a Slytherin now, so my ambition has to go towards something, does it not?”

Snape smirked at Harry. An air of finality about him, and he fell back asleep, or, at least he pretended to.

“A Potter becoming a Professor?” Some other portrait asked. “Never thought I would see the day. I had a great, great… something or other that could have been a Professor, if he hadn’t wasted his time playing with hair product. That last one’s father, I believe.”

***

Hermione basically cornered him when he left McGonagall’s office. She’d been standing outside waiting for him, and he hadn’t even noticed she had followed him. Hermione’s arms were crossed and she was frowning slightly.

“Even if the Headmistress calls, you  _ do not  _ just abandon your best friend.”

There were empty classrooms in this area of the castle, and Harry supposed if Hermione wanted to talk, it may as well be somewhere private. They found a classroom that hadn’t been completely fixed since the war. The windows were still smashed, and some of the ceiling had caved in, exposing another empty classroom above them. Harry glanced up into the classroom, not wanting anyone to be up there, but there was so little floor in that room that they didn’t really need to bother worrying.

“What you said earlier…” Hermione started. “Do you really think he’s changed that much.”

“I think he’s trying to. Unlearning what you’ve been taught your whole life is a hard thing to do, even more so when you  _ love  _ the people that are teaching you.” Harry said.

Hermione swallowed and nodded her head.

“Sometimes it’s just… hard.” She said. “It’s hard to pretend he didn’t hurt me… us. For so many years. All because I want to be tolerant and loving and a good person.”

“You  _ are  _ a good person. You’re a great person, Hermione.” Harry said. She was such a good person, he thought she was a better than anyone he’d ever known. “You’re the best. To be able to look Malfoy in the eye at all, you’re amazing.”

Hermione smiled at him. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You’re… friends… with him. To know he’s capable of that kind of change.”

“I  _ think  _ he’s capable of being a good person. I don’t know anything. We haven’t spoken about the War or anything before. He’s capable of being good, just as I’m capable of being bad.” There was a lump in Harry’s throat that wasn’t going away.

“You’re not a bad person, Harry.” Hermione said, sounding so sure.

“Neither is he. Hopefully.”

“Oh Harry, I shouldn’t have brought this up.”

“You were right to bring it up.”

“It’s just…” Hermione hesitated, and Harry nodded, urging her to continue. “I was rude to Ron about it, when I’m not even sure myself. I mean… I spoke to Ron about it after but he was completely justified.”

“You explained it to Ron so I’m sure he understands. We aren’t  _ complete  _ idiots anymore, remember?”

“You’re probably right.”

“Of course I am.”

“Thank you.” Hermione said. “You need to talk to Draco. Not for me, for yourself - or, both of you, I guess.”

Harry stayed silent, there wasn’t much you could say when Hermione was sure of something.

“There’s so many bad memories between the two of you. It has to be sorted out before one of you explodes. Especially if you’re going to date him.”

Harry blanched, Hermione was being so blase about it. Obviously, she knew, but Harry didn’t expect he to bring it up so calmly and nonchalantly, especially after what she’d said about being unsure of Malfoy’s character and motivations.

“You’ve only had that look in your eye once before.” Hermione said in way of an answer to his unspoken question.


	7. seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating for such a long time. i constantly had writer's block, and was stuck in an intense time of school, but all of that is over now, so there’s more drarry content to consume. the chapter isn’t too long but i should be back to posting weekly now, if not more often.
> 
> hope you enjoy.

Minerva sighed behind her hands as the portraits around the room squabbled. Not for the first time, she considered the merits of recycling, but she knew it would do her more harm to do away with the previous headmasters and headmistresses of the school. At least in the long run - presently, all it could do is rid her of her headache. Albus had always said it had been easy for him to adjust to the level of noise in the office when the portraits got in a heavy debate, but so far Minerva had suffered no less than five tension headaches from the stress of it all. She’d had less when Sirius Black had not so subtly asked her the best way to keep a Mandrake leaf in his mouth was - that whole month she’d been a nervous wreck. Though she wasn’t sure what she was more nervous about. The Ministry finding out that three underaged wizards were trying to become animagi, or the possibility that they might not be able to do it.

“Minnie.”

Minerva lifted her head out of her hands. The portraits had pretended to go back to sleep the moment they sensed someone coming into the room, so she heard the voice clearly in the sudden silence.

“Beatrice.” Minerva smiled fondly as her wife set a large mug of strong smelling tea on the desk, already sipping from her own mug.

“Have you got another headache? Should I go get Poppy?”

“It’s just the portraits, Beattie, love.”

“They don’t seem like they cause any trouble.” Beattie said, winking.

“They like to eavesdrop. When I’m alone they can be a little… Overzealous with their opinions.” A snort of dissatisfaction came from somewhere behind Minerva, and she rolled her eyes. “Yes, Phineas. I mean you.”

Beattie giggled at the exchange, and Minerva smiled, glad she could still make her wife laugh at the small things.

“How has your day been, love?”

They talked idly about their respective days, smiling fondly the whole time and sipping at their tea. They forgot about the portraits and everything around them, focusing only on each other. When the last dregs of their tea finally went cold, and Minerva put down her mug in distaste, Beatrice was already standing, and flicked her wand to make the crockery disappear. She seemed to float over to the window that overlooked the lake, and stared out at it wistfully.

“I love you Minnie.” Beatrice said contentedly, when Minerva joined her at the window, gazing out at the stars.

“I love you more.”

Beatrice rested her forehead against Minerva’s shoulder, and wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Sorry to interrupt, ladies.” Albus said from his frame. “But I’ve been told Harry is on his w-” Albus’ words were unneeded as the door to Minerva’s office opened.

If Harry was confused at the sight of two of his teachers more or less cuddling, he didn’t show it, and launched straight into his spiel.

“Professor McGonagall” Harry said. “Headmistress, I didn’t want to say anything before, I didn’t because I thought it would die down i really did. They all respect you too much- At least I thought they did.” Harry Potter was frantic, grasping his hair, voice panicked.

“Mr Potter.” Minerva said, stepping forward to grasp his shoulders. Harry flinched for a second, before coming back to himself. “Take a deep breath and let me know what is going on.”

“Astoria Greengrass was just hexed by a Gryffindor, last week a first year Slytherin was left in a hidden passageway with the leg locker curse on him, I could go on and on. Slytherin students are being targeted more often than before, and it’s worse than before.”

“What was Astoria Greengrass hexed with?”

“She, uh. She’s being treated for anorexia and she was hit with a spell that stopped her from eating anything.”

Minerva grimaced. It was much worse than she thought.

***

Harry rushed into the hospital wing with McGonagall and Buckley trailing right behind him. Astoria Greengrass was sitting in a hospital bed with Madam Pomfrey slowly spoon feeding her a bright green potion. It was a better situation than when Harry had left, with Astoria still unconscious. Malfoy was sitting beside her bed, comforting her and chatting between spoonfuls of potion.

“Poppy, we need to talk.” Minerva said as the other three looked towards the entrance.

“I’m afraid we do.” Madam Pomfrey agreed.

McGonagall ushered Madam Pomfrey and Professor Buckley away from the table. Malfoy was holding the potion now, under strict orders from the nurse. Harry joined Malfoy and Astoria, despite feeling like the odd one out. He hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation before Astoria turned her head to him and patted his hand, smiling.

“Sorry, what did you say?” Harry asked.

“I said, thank you for rushing me here to get help.”

“I was almost too late, I think.” Harry said.

“You noticed that I wasn’t eating, and you noticed how spaced out I was. No one else did, they just thought it was normal.” Astoria smiled sadly, and paused as Malfoy made her drink more of the potion. “I just thought I was relapsing, if you hadn’t noticed I could have been gone within the week. The spell stopped me from noticing anything was wrong. I wouldn’t have known that I wasn’t eating.”

“I’m just glad you’re safe. I’m sorry about all of this.” Harry said.

“You’re sweet, but don’t be sorry, you can’t fix this overnight. The other houses have to see reason. Every Slytherin here is remorseful or repenting, but they don’t see it.”

“Potter, can I talk to you outside?” Malfoy asked, interrupting the conversation.

“Er- I guess so.”

Malfoy had given Madam Pomfrey the potion back and was waiting for Harry to follow him outside. They stopped right outside the entrance of the hospital wing, and Malfoy all my cornered Harry.

“Who was it, Potter?” Malfoy said through clenched teeth “Who did this to her?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t think she does either.”

“How can she not know?”

“Spells can be cast on someone without them knowing, especially if another spell is being thrown at them.” Harry said calmly.

“Do you care about her, Potter?”

“What?”

“Do you care about her?” Malfoy repeated slowly. “Or is this just a ‘saving people’ thing?”

“I don’t think it matters so long as she’s safe, but I care about her safety, even if I hardly know her.”

“So it’s a saving people thing?”

“We’ve been back for just over a month, Malfoy. I haven’t had the time to befriend every single Slytherin in between my classes.” Harry said, starting to get annoyed. “I care about people’s lives, is that a crime? Who cares if I have a complex, as long as it’s keeping people alive?”

“So does your saviour complex finally extend to Slytherins then? Not going to attack any more of them in bathrooms?”

“I thought I was protecting myself from you casting an Unforgivable. I didn’t know what that spell did.” Harry said, despite it not being the full truth. He shouldn’t have used a spell marked For Enemies on a crying teenager, regardless of ugly tattoos.

“Hmph.” Malfoy crossed his arms and was staring at the ground. “So rescuing Goyle and I from the fire wasn’t just so you didn’t have to live with the guilt?”

“No, Malfoy. I turned back because you deserved to have a second chance after the war.”

Malfoy uncrossed his arms and smirked. He looked back up at Harry. He almost seemed to be holding back a smile, a real smile.

“That’s a bit cocky, what if I’d killed you the second we were out of that room?” Malfoy’s shoulders relaxed and he stopped holding himself so tense.

“I guess I took a chance on you then.” Harry said with a small smile.

His feelings for Malfoy had already changed after the war, and they were rapidly changing again now. Harry gulped, and wished the feelings to hide, because he wasn’t sure if he was ready to face that reality yet.

“Let’s go back to Astoria. I want to make sure she’s okay.” Malfoy said.

“She’s being looked after by Madam Pomfrey, the woman who regrew my bones in one night, but the great Draco Malfoy thinks his presence will have more curative powers.” Harry said, joking lightly.

“She’s my friend. I know you’d do the same for your friends. I didn’t realise she was sick, and I want to amend that mistake.”

“I know, Malfoy, let’s go in.”

In the hospital wing, the professors were still discussing the situation with Madam Pomfrey with concern looks. Harry couldn’t tell if their concern extended to a difficult situation or if it was just for Astoria and potentially other students. McGonagall grimaced as Madam Pomfrey explained something, and Harry was concerned, so he left Malfoy with Astoria to figure out what was happening.

“Excuse me, Madam Pomfrey, but is Astoria going to be okay?” Harry asked, as soon as there was an opening to speak.

“The curse has been broken, of course, but Astoria will have a slow recovery. With proper care and good support, she should be okay.” Madam Pomfrey said. “I’m going to recommend her a muggle specialist, unfortunately the magical community doesn’t have a great grasp on mental health, something I’m trying to rectify, but it’s not easy.”

“Won’t the muggle specialist restrict her opening up? She won’t be able to talk about magic.” Professor Buckley asked, concerned.

“The specialist is a Squib, so she’ll be able to speak about magic, but she will have to be careful around the specialist’s office.”

“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. I’ll tell Malfoy what you said, he’s worried.”

“You boys still don’t call each other by given name?” McGonagall asked

“Uh, no.”

Harry walked back to Astoria’s bedside, where Malfoy was talking quietly to her, the potion was finished now, and Astoria looked slightly healthier, but still exhausted.

“She’ll be okay, Malfoy. We should leave and let her rest.”

Malfoy looked at Astoria to make sure she would be okay alone, and she laughed softly.

“Don’t worry about me, Draco. I’m in Madam Pomfrey’s care.”

“Okay. Get some rest, Astoria.” Malfoy said before standing up.

“Only if you think about what I told you.”

“As you wish.” Malfoy laughed.

As Harry and Malfoy left the hospital wing, Harry turned his head toward Malfoy.

“What did she tell you?”

“A lot of things, but one of them was that she thinks we should use each other’s first names.”

“McGonagall was surprised that we didn’t. Do you think we should?”

“It’s more fun to just say Potter like I used to. It makes you think I’m mad at you.”

“Aren’t you always mad at me?”

“Only occasionally. Which is a surprise.”

Malfoy only laughed when Harry hit him lightly on the shoulder for the joke.


End file.
